It Will Always be You and Me
by l.h. Zein
Summary: You know, it's amazing how a God of Light can have so much dark." she whispers. He laughs, perhaps he's finally intoxicated from the new brew they'd stolen from Dionysus. "I'm brother to the moon,I must have a dark side." She blinks unsure what to say."There is one thing I find comforting." he sighs laying his head on her shoulder."In the end, at least it will always be you and me.


She watches him smile slightly to himself as he shoots arrow after arrow at the moving target in front of him. She ignores the acid like burning in her veins at what could possibly have him in such a happy mood. "Who is it this time?" she asks, pretending to be bored at the prospect. "Daphne." he says softly, mulling the name over. She raises a brow. "A tree?"

He ignores the tone lacing her retort and laughs. "A nymph, being a tree is a small percent of her entire existence." She rolls her eyes and takes the bow from his hands, as he saunters away apparently done with her interrogation. Her hands shake, but she holds the bow firm and positions an arrow. She releases a breath and the arrow flies piercing the one her brother had shot digging deep until it had lodged itself in the frame of the target. When he comes to her later, tears in his eyes. The acid is gone from her veins. She holds his head in her hands and lets him mourn in silence. "It was my fault. My arrogance." She silences him with a few soft touches, but she doesn't argue. She would never lie to him, even if the lie brought him comfort.

He leaves in the morning, as she knew he would. The sun is firmly in it's place in the sky, but he's nowhere to be found. She ignores the stabs in her chest and occupies herself with her hunters. Callisto tears herself from the group and matches her stride. While the others are occupied with the stag they are hunting, she is watching her. She says nothing and simply places her hand on Artemis's shoulder. She glances into the other girl's eyes before shying away from the touch. She has the stag dead and roasting in 20 minutes after that. She watches her moon linger over head, a sliver of silver in an otherwise dark night. The other hunters are fast asleep. Callisto sits next to her. They are the only two souls in the forest still plagued by wakefulness. "You don't understand it yet." Callisto whispers to her. There's a slight look of guilt on the girl's face as she turns her cheek. "I am a virgin Goddess. I don't need to understand any of it." she hisses back. Callisto shakes her head, and she is overcome with a strange sensation. It's vaguely similar to the one she once felt when she walked in on Apollo having a vision. It had left her cold, empty even, as though in all her power she was nothing short of pathetic in the strands of time. She'd avoided him that week, ashamed that she'd crumbled. He'd borne it for their entire existence, and she couldn't withstand it for all of 2 seconds. _Seconds that had felt like eternity._ She's snapped back to the present by Callisto's sigh. "But you will." she whispers back. Artemis closes her eyes and pretends not to have heard.

They're halfway across the nation when they stumble upon another lonely hunter. He's tall, with wide shoulders, and eyes clear that seem to alter between grey and crystal blue, but more importantly the thudding in his chest assures of one other thing, he is mortal. "What is a lone hunter doing out in the woods this far from home?" She asks. He keeps up with ease, no struggle, but much to prove. He shrugs his shoulders. "There is peace in the hunt." There's a silent turmoil in his eyes. She does not press. She understands.

The hunts are long, though the nights become a blissful opportunity. The first time is an accident, though not entirely. They'd hunted wolves and sometime between the first arrow and the final howl, a wide gash had appeared across his middle. They laid him gingerly on a mat. She sent the others away to rest and gather supplies, but she didn't leave. "Let me heal you." she said gingerly parting his hair. His forehead was drenched in sweat. He shook his head. "I have earned the suffering." The question is at her lips again as she takes in that same turmoil that's home seems to be in his eyes. He sighs and eases himself upright. "If you knew the sinful things I have done, would you still look to me like that?"

She ignores the first part and focuses on the end. "Look at you like what?" she demands.

He looks at her gravely. "Like I could somehow put stars into the sky, when we both know that honor is held by someone high in your family tree."

She's not sure what forces her forward, but he lips are on his and it seems so wrong, yet perfect. It stays perfect right up to the moment she finds him lifeless with arrows in his back. She rages up at the sky. She's not sure who she is yelling to, the sky himself or the sun who calls that kingdom his home.

She cries and cries until not even Poseidon could have willed more water for tears to fall from her eyes. She understands then, how beautiful a simple soul can be, and why Apollo seems so keen on searching for one that might finally chose to stay. She won't mock, she vows. She won't deter him. Though vows do nothing for the poison that still latches to her heart whenever she sees him with another. She can't prevent the vile thoughts that come to mind when she sees them all fail over and over, leaving him broken in ways only she can recognize. They don't see him struggle as she does. They don't see the pain in his face as he fights the visions. They don't see how he wishes to hold on to hope. They don't see his depth.

She roams in solitary, a quaint cabin in the woods where only animals keep her company. It's a rhythm, almost a beat that the life around her follows. It's a sanctuary. She ventures out occasionally, when duty demands, otherwise this is home now. The world of the Olympians can't touch her here, can't taint every innocent action into something so far from pure. She believed it with all her heart right up until the moment she opened the door. Athena blinks at her before a careful smile stretches across her face. "Hello, sister." She's blonde today, with hair cut just below her ears, brushing her neck as she turns her head. She steps in, surveying the entire cabin, which is hardly more than two rooms meshed together. "So this is where you run off and hide." Artemis bites her tongue, before some of the venom rising in her throat has a chance to spill. She won't retaliate against Athena for crimes she did not commit. This is her sister, her father's other bastard daughter that she'd once spent days on a little island in her youth playing with. They are connected in that way, a warband on their own against Hera's initial wrath and the tainted halls of Olympus, where sin ran rampant.

"Hardly hiding if you found me." She says softly. Athena smiles slightly and cups her hand on the curve of her jaw. She studies her eyes. "You never could hide from me."

They've only fallen like this a handful of times before. All in secret, and all simple soft touches and grazes of their lips. Something seems to stop them, so in the end they lay next to one another. Athena is brushing her long curls with her slender fingers. "You aren't the only one of us to love a human and lose them." She murmurs dropping her hand. "And the rest of us certainly don't seek out self imposed exile afterward."

She turns toward her, propping her head on her hand. "Do tell me Athena, who is it you lost?" She's tired of the jabs. They don't understand, and those who did, were not in the same situation. There were no vows that had bound their actions. No vows they had been determined to break. "I loved a human, and when I could not protect her, I made her into a monster with snakes for hair and eyes that turned mortals into stone." Athena edges closer so that her gray eyes are a mere breath from her own. "Though I suspect, like me, the one you truly long for is kept alive by something much stronger than a fragile heartbeat."

It's a simple brush of their skin, and she sees it. Visions of blood, soldiers, chaos, war... She draws away. "A fatal attraction then" She says softly, "to be drawn to the ones that complement us in the best and worst possible ways."

Athena sighs and stares up at the ceiling, hard as though those sheets of pine hold answers only she can decipher. "We are abandoning Olympus."

She walks the marbled floors, fingers tracing the carvings of the stone. The Olympians disbanded in favor of peace...in favor of humility. A laugh escapes her lips. The sound of footsteps behind her draws her attention to the lone figure in the hall. Her breath hitches at the sight of him. "I laughed for days." Apollo says walking up beside her, "Who would have thought the most arrogant immortals would go on a stint of humility?"

"Perhaps it's for the best." She said glancing at the golden fountains before her. "It's arrogance that proceeds destruction." She glances back at him expectedly. He grimaces, the pain of a battle just beneath his skin. "I wouldn't know." he turns away, "I refuse to look." She nods, as though she expected the answer. "I shall miss this place though." she says, "The memories and the mischief will forever haunt me." He grins. "The memories of the ones you know of. I doubt you've discovered all the secrets contained in this place." She scoffs, pretending to be offended. "If you know this paradise as well as you think you do then," She leans in close, "Find me." She disappears, her laughter echoing behind her.

It's a game, innocent like the ones they played on their island. He chases her. She chases him. It's whirlwinds until they stop at their chambers. Side by side with the galaxies above them. Her eyes drift to the all too familiar constellation. He catches her staring. The mood, a moment ago so light, is now terrible dark and heavy. "Do you forgive me?" She glances up at his stormy eyes. "Not yet." She finally says, the relief of the honesty prompts her to take a deep breath. "Perhaps this time with the humans," she says as her eyes drift back to the stars, "will finally teach us how to let things go."

Olympus is forgotten, and centuries seem to pass in seconds before her eyes. She moves into cities and champions for the weak. He's never far. She senses him, but not once does he approach. It isn't until she finally speaks those words in the middle of the night after she's hung her moon in the sky. Those words that grant him permission. "I forgive you."

They fall into an easy pattern, traveling together as they drift city to city. They part for decades, but in the end the pull between them is more than the restlessness they both seem to drink one night, starting from the day into the night with no sign of stopping until morning. He was back from a week long shift at the hospital he'd recently made his home. He's tired, though he'd never admit it. "We're doomed." he says with a hint of a smile on his face. It's frightening, the humor he has just as those fatal words escape his lips. "All of us, Zeus, Hera, Hephaestus, Hermes, Aphrodite, Poseidon…" on and on he lists till he pauses to seemingly catch his breath. "Me." He seems closer. His breath is tickling her cheek. "You." he says somewhere near her ear. She sighs, shifting her position closer to him. "You know, it's amazing how a God of Light can have so much dark." she whispers. He laughs, perhaps he's finally intoxicated from the new brew they'd stolen from Dionysus. "I'm brother to the moon, I must have a dark side." She blinks unsure what to say. "There is one thing I find comforting." he sighs laying his head on her shoulder. "In the end, at least it will always be you and me."

He searches her eyes, waiting. She closes her eyes and dips her head in a nod. "It always has been." They both move in synch. It's no surprise really, they've always been halves of a whole. His lips melt against hers. She shudders into him as their bodies press together. It's different from what she remembers. Before, all she'd had was bitter sweet stolen moments of perfection. This. This is different. This feels like home.

Dawn is quick to come, begging to rip them apart so that the moon can make way for the sun to rise. They ignore the urgent call for the day to begin and lazily lay limbs entangled, forcing seconds to stretch for eternity. "What a tired cliche." he murmurs against her neck. She rolls her head back, eyes closed. "A cliche story that has spanned civilizations." she murmurs, 'How the sun loved the moon."

He pulls away looking down at her. "And the moon loved the sun." He finished. She grins and happily steals another kiss before they separate; he to bring the day and her to end the night. "It will always be you and me." She whispers. "It always has been." he answers. He's gone in a moment, and she smiles as the first rays of sun break across the Earth. "Always." She murmurs.


End file.
